Lorien Legacies: The Unknown Garde
by AnonymousDerp
Summary: There was a second ship which carried me, Ten, her Cepan and mine, with a few other animals. But the others don't know that - they think that there's only nine Garde, and maybe they've discovered Ten. They haven't discovered me, that's for sure. To the humans, I'm Brandon Jackson. To the Loric, I am the Unknown Garde. To me, I am Number Eleven. Rated T for violence.
1. Chapter One - I Am Number Eleven

**I WOKE UP TO THE SEARING PAIN IN MY ANKLE.** Light illuminated the room, clearly coming from my leg. I glanced at the window, and only the faint glow of the moon light seeped through the windows. It was still the dead of night, most probably.

The pain had turned from a searing one to a burning one - one that seemed to seep into my flesh, eating at eat as if someone had poured acid on my ankle. I clutched it, squeezing it hard, in a futile attempt to slow the pain down. I bared my teeth, biting down hard to prevent myself from screaming. And then I couldn't take it any longer - I shout for Jaycob, my Cepan. I yelled his name over and over again, the previously eerily silent house now filled with my piercing cry of pain. I heard footsteps, and the door was thrown open, and Jaycob rushed in.

The first thing I noticed about Jaycob is that he had a kitchen knife in a tight grip in his left hand. His eyes darted around the room for about a second, until he noticed the glaring light from my ankle. His gaze fell on me, and he dropped the kitchen knife onto the floor. It fell with a thud as he rushed towards me. I let out a growl, and the light died down. Steadily, the pain subsided. Everything returns back to its normal state - my screams no longer filled the hallways, the light no longer shone in the room, and there was no more pain.

I was taking heavy breaths - much too heavy for my liking. My heart hammered against my chest, so loudly I swore I could have heard it beating. Jaycob turned on the lights, and that was when I saw it - we both saw it.

On my ankle was a symbol, now a scar permanently etched into my skin and flesh. Number Three's symbol. It was now my third scar - marking the death of Number Three. Jaycob stares at it at first, and then his eyes widen in panic. We both knew what that meant - Number Four was next, and we needed to get out of the town, out of this house, far far away. It was time to run off again.

That was what we did the last two times. Actually, it was what we always did every time we sensed something strange or dangerous. We would take off, leaving everything behind - including our temporary identities that we had taken up when we were in that town. The Magodorians were now one step closer to finding us. Number Four was the only thing that stood in their way.

Jaycob shot a frantic glance at his watch, seeing that it was only one o'clock in the morning. "Sleep, get some rest. Tomorrow morning, we leave. Right away." He said, before sprinting out of my bedroom and up the stairs - probably to pack a few things. And there he was, leaving me in my room, leaving me worried and scared. He probably didn't mean to, because I was sure he was worried and scared as well, and possibly panicked. I tried to calm down, to steady my breathing, to relax. I forced my eyelids shut, hoping that I would drift off to a peaceful sleep that night. But of course, that didn't happen. I was kept awake for at least three hours, due to the thoughts and questions cramming into my head. That night, those things haunted my dreams as well.

* * *

**THE NEXT MORNING, JAYCOB WOKE ME UP.** He had a backpack slung across his shoulder and was already dressed. He urged me to go take a shower and get ready. I did so, but in a very groggy manner because I didn't exactly get much sleep the night before. In the bathroom, I examined my new scar on my ankle. I had to admit, it frightened me a lot. That scar confirmed that Number Three was dead. Somewhere out there, Three had lost his or her life. And Number Four's life was at risk now, as well.

Something odd about me is that most likely the other Nine - or Ten - Garde don't know about me. I'm the "Unknown One," as Jaycob usually referred to me as. The reason why? I'm Number Eleven. I was placed on a ship - a second ship, which carried me, Ten, our Cepan and some other things I couldn't bother to remember - which was separated from the other one, the ship that carried the nine Garde. I was still put under the spell - or charm, whatever you want to call it, really - and I, like the rest, could not be killed out of order. In other words, I would be the last Garde to die at the hands of the Mogadorians, with Ten in front of me. As to why I was put into a second ship with Ten and not placed in the ship with the other nine Garde, I don't know. Jaycob hadn't told me yet, and I learnt over the years to not press on the subject too much - he would just brush it off or tell me the same answer every single time: _The time hasn't come yet_.

I didn't realize that I was caught up in my thoughts so much, because Jaycob has come banging on the door for me to hurry up. I dried my short, wind-swept blonde hair with a towel. My natural hair color is actually light brown, but Jaycob had asked me to dye it blonde, just to be extra careful. I didn't really like my blonde hair. It never fit right with my hazel eyes.

Another round of knocking and I gave in. I threw on a set of new clothes - a blue and white long-sleeved tee shirt and a pair of denim jeans. I opened the door and made my way downstairs, where Jaycob was waiting at the front door with a few bags. I helped him carry them into the trunk of the car. We didn't exchange much words, because there was nothing to talk about, really. When we finished with the bags, he pulled out a folder - a folder filled with my fake identifications. He held out a lighter, shoving it into my hands. He tossed the folder to me, and I know what he wanted me to do. I let out a sigh as I caught the folder.

In this town, I had taken up the name of Jack Brenton. It was the fourth identity I had taken up - Jeremy Anderson, Tyler Caylan and Peter Johnson being my first, second and third respectively. The first time I changed identity from Jeremy Anderson to Tyler Caylan was when Number One died. And then, when Number Two died, I became Peter Johnson. A few years after, Jaycob had said he sensed something wrong. We took off again, and I changed my identity to Jack Brenton. And now, I was going to do it all over again.

I lit the folder on fire and the flames consumed it. I dropped the folder onto the ground, where Jaycob threw his folder into the fire as well. _It's been good knowing you, Jack,_ I thought. I watched as the flames engulfed the two folders, smoke floating up into the skies. Jaycob had been spilling gasoline around the house while I did so. He made sure we both were a fair distance away from the house before setting the gasoline on fire. The fire spread quickly, setting the house on fire.

With that, we both scrambled into the car, ready to drive off.


	2. Chapter Two - We Run Over A Mogadorian

**"JAYCOB, WHERE ARE WE GOING?"** was the questions I asked Jaycob once we were around two miles from the burning house, now probably swarmed with firemen and astonished neighbors. Jaycob didn't answer me, his piercing midnight blue eyes fixed on the road ahead. I was annoyed at him for ignoring me. I repeated the question again, this time asking it in a more stern and demanding tone. Jaycob took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, puffing his cheeks.

"I don't know, Jack-" He said, but I cut him off.

"I'm not Jack anymore, remember?" I said, in a slightly disappointed tone.

"Then what do you want to be called if you aren't Jack anymore?" Jaycob replied.

I opened my mouth to reply, but I stopped short. I hadn't thought about that yet. ".. I'll think about that."

As we drove through the road, I looked out the window, watching as the endless fields of green rolled pass. We were driving pretty fast, though not above the speed limit. My mind wandered off into its world of thoughts. I wished that I could still be Jack Brenton. I could continue being the fun-filled, lively teenager who had so much to live for. Sometimes, despite having all the awesome legacies, I wished I was normal. I had friends back at school - Austin, Leo, Petra - friends who I would never see again. I wondered about how they would feel upon my sudden disappearance. For the first day or two, they would simply think I was sick. Then they would hear the news about my house burning down. And as the months - maybe years - passed, I would soon fade from their thoughts. I would simply be a mystery to them.

I had to admit, becoming such close friends to them might have been a mistake I made. Maybe that's why I liked being Jack so much, because Jack Brenton broke all the rules. I didn't lay low and stay under the radar like Jaycob had told me to. I had actually felt like I was _normal_. I should have known that that wouldn't last forever, though. It would never last, anyway.

Jeremy Anderson, Tyler Caylan, Peter Johnson and Jack Brenton, they have never lasted forever. As those names rang in my ears, I came back to the topic of my new identity. A simple normal name was always what I went for. Luke, maybe? Carter? As more and more names poured into my mind likes torrents, one made the other thoughts in my mind come to a stop. Brandon Jackson. Yeah, I liked that.

"Brandon Jackson," I blurted out.

"Hmm?" Jaycob asked. "Who?"

"Brandon Jackson. I want my new name to be Brandon Jackson," I said.

"Okay, _Brandon_. I already thought of my name. Then I'll be Harry Jackson, **(A/N: Ha! See what I did there? Harry Jackson? As in, Harry Potter and Percy Jackson? Heh, heh? *Wiggles eyebrows*)** Brandon's father, who moved to Berkeley Heights in New Jersey, after the _devastating_ death of his wife," Jaycob said, pausing and emphasizing on the word "devastating".

I couldn't help but surpass a laugh. That was Jaycob's favorite little story to tell. If someone had asked why I didn't have a mom, Jaycob would jump in with a sad, dramatic story on how my "mom" had passed away, and then almost break down in mock tears so as to make the person switch the topic.

"..and he had moved to Berkeley Heights with his son in search of a better life," He finally finished.

"Good story," I smirked. "Oh, is Berkeley Heights where we're going?"

"Like you could come up with a better one, Brandon. And yeah, that's where we're going. I figured out where to go while you were in such _deep_ thought about your new name," Sarcasm was written all over his statement.

"Whatver. And yeah, I totally could make up a better story. A less dramatic one. Just say that my 'mom' had divorced with you. Simple as that," I said in a monotone voice.

Jaycob - or Harry, as I should start calling him - rolled his bright blue eyes.

"Hey, by the way, can I stop dying my hair blonde now?" I asked.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever suites you. What hair and eye color do you want, then?"

I thought about it for a while, pondering. Blonde hair, brown eyes was a combination I already had used. I planned to go with my natural hair color, which was light brown. But maybe switch it up a little bit? Dark brown? As for the eyes, I decided to use contacts. I always adored bright green eyes - not the dark green ones, but the really bright ones. I figured that that would go well with dark brown hair.

I informed Harry of my choices, which he complimented. I also told him that he should dye his hair dark brown too, just to avoid suspicion. People doubt that he was my father if he had jet-black hair and bright blue eyes while I had dark brown hair and bright green eyes.

For the rest of the trip, everything was going well and normal.

That is, until something jumped right in front of the hood of our car.

* * *

**"WHAT THE FUDGE!"** Is what I exclaimed when Harry veered the car to the right. He slammed his foot on the breaks, which screeched to a stop. I was clutching the sides of my seat, practically getting a death grip on them. I was holding on more tightly than I thought I would, because my knuckles were almost white. My heart hammered against my chest, threatening to leap out of it.

"What was-" I started, but I couldn't finish my sentence. Because what we apparently ran over jumped right back on - and we both see it.

A Mogadorian. On the hood of our car. Obviously trying to attack us.

"HOLY SHIT!" I yelled, the color draining out of my face. Harry jammed his foot onto the accelerator, in an attempt to throw the Mogadorian off. However, it was futile. The Mogadorian held on, snarling at us with its serrated set of teeth. It of course had reinforcements, because at that very moment, three other Mogs appeared, not far from the car. Knowing that we could not fight them in the car, Harry got out and I did the same.

"Brandon, do something! Use your freaking legacies," Harry urged, almost yelling.

"Alright, alright calm down!" I shot back as a reply.

Using my telekinesis, I threw the Mogadorian off the car, slamming him into his other friend. Harry and I sprinted down the road, abandoning our car. The Mogs were hot on our heels. Their obsidian black eyes stared right at us, as if to bore a hole into our brains. Just looking at them sent shivers down my spine - their serrated teeth, piercing obsidian black eyes and pale skin. They drew their swords, which glowed neon blue.

I clenched my fist and thrust it forward in the direction of one of the Mogs to simulate a punch, and with my telekinesis, sent him flying back with such force. The impact slammed him into a nearby tree, where he was knocked unconcious. One of the them hurled a dagger Harry's direction, which I sent coming right back at him with telekinesis. The dagger pierced right through the Mogadorian's chest and into his flesh. My Cyrokinesis - the ability to manipulate or conjure ice - freezed one of the Mogadorians.

Apparently, there was still another.

As I whipped my neck around, one of the Mogadorians tackled Harry down. He raised his sword, ready to ram it into Harry's chest. I wouldn't let that happen. At the very last second, I use my telekinesis to get an invisible grip around the Mogadorian's neck, lifting him up into the air. Slowly, my grip grows tighter. The Mogadorian squirms under my invisible grip. I ripped his sword out of his hand and I thrust it forward into his chest, effectively ending him.

I helped Harry up, who thanks me. Together, we run back to the car where we drive off - at a dangerously fast speed.

* * *

**Hello everybody. Sorry if that was too short. The first half was probably way to boring for some of you guys, but it was fun for me to write about. Hopefully it gives you guys some details about Eleven and Harry/Jaycob. Next update coming soon.**

**~AD**


	3. Aww Man, It's An Author's Note!

Alright, I know what you guys feel. Yeah, I hate Author's Notes too. But this one is just a quick one. Don't come barging down my door with torches and sh*t going all, "UPDATTEEEE! UPDATE!". No, don't do that.

Okay, what was this AN for? Oh yeah. Okay, so I have some _serious_ exams coming in like two weeks. I won't update until.. *checks calender*.. 7th October, maybe? Oh and something for you people to look forward too: I'm trying to make the chapters come out longer and not be just one small page with one thousand words, so yeah, look forward to longer chapters.

Oh, and if you guys do come running up my doorstep with torches and weapons and chizz, I'll kill Brandon and Harry. UHUH. You peeps don't want that, do you? If you want to see Brandon and Harry alive, you'll wait till October 7th.

.. Okay, in all seriousness, see you on October 7th. Just think about it, okay? October 7th is only like three weeks from now.

Bye!

~AD

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~SASSY JASON GRACE IS SASSY~ (Yep.. I'm kinda hyper today... Pretty sure all the Percy Jackson fans who read that just pretty much flipped out.. Tumblr..)


	4. Chapter Three - Flirting Isn't My Thing

**THE CAR WASN'T WRECKED.** Good, because if it was, that would have ultimately sucked. I still wasn't exactly sure as to what kind of stupid stunt the Mogs tried to perform, because me and Harry kicked their booty pretty quickly. If the car _did_ get wrecked, I would have given that particular Mogadorian an extra-hard kick to the face, ninja-style.

_Whoa, get a hold of yourself,_ I thought. I must have been watching too much _Young Justice_. I wasn't exactly as ninja-like as Robin, Batman's sidekick.

Harry had been driving at a dangerous speed, going _way_ over the speed limit. I was not fond of being a complete rebel, so this slightly ticked me off.

"Umm, Harry, you can slow down," I assured him. "Seriously. Slow down."

The car's speed gradually decreased to an appropriate one. We were at least four miles away from the site of the not-so-awesome fight with the Mogadorians. It wasn't a particularly hard fight, but Harry was almost killed, and if I had waited a second longer, he would have been dead. In other words,_ not cool_.

With nothing else to do, I rummaged through my backpack for some form of entertainment. Luckily, Harry had packed my Nintendo DS, so I wouldn't be so bored. He had packed two books inside, too. I guessed he didn't want me to be _too_ hooked up to my handheld game console. I fished out Nintendo DS and started playing Mario Kart, something I was never got bored of. _Ever_. Anything Mario related was somehow entertaining to me.

I stared at the screen, my fingers working themselves on the buttons as the digital, quirky dude in red ran across the screen. As I played, Mario's catchphrase kept ringing in my head: "Mama Mia!". **(A/N: I apologize to any Mario fans if I got that wrong, 'cuz I don't play Mario..)**

I must have been playing longer than I thought, because Harry then told me to get out of the car. I turned my Nintendo DS off and shoved it into my backpack, pushing the door open to leave.

"We're stopping here? In the middle of the road?" I asked, cocking on eyebrow.

"Yes. But not for long. Look, there's probably trackers on this car, somewhere. Keep your eyes open and find them," Harry instructed.

I did as I was told. I slid underneath the car, running my hands over the bottom to feel for any tracker. Before I found any, Harry announced that he had found one. I continued my search and soon found another - very small circular object, placed on the licence plate of our car. We continued our search, but found no other trackers.

"What are we going to do with those now?" I asked. "Destroy them?"

"No," Harry replied. "We destroy one of them - and then put the other somewhere else."

Harry passed the tracker to me, and told me to hurl it as far as I could - which was probably very far, considering my enhanced abilities. I sent the tracker sailing into the air, and I used telekinesis to give it an extra push. With that, we hopped back into the car and drove off again.

* * *

**"WE'RE STOPPING HERE," HARRY TOLD ME.** He had parked the car outside a fast-food restaurant, and was now slinging his backpack over his shoulder and carrying his briefcase, which probably contains all sorts of documents and whatever else he would need to make our fake documents.

Over the years, Harry had taught me how to make my own documents, just in case he died (which I hope would never happen). I've never tried it on my own, though. I just thought that it would be too risky if I did it by myself. I probably would not know how to cover my tracks.

I looked up from my book - which I had buried my nose into for a few long hours - and closed it, taking note of the page I had stopped at. I shoved it into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder and grabbed my Chest. I was pretty sure it wasn't normal for a teenage boy to be carrying around a chest, but I couldn't stuff that thing into my backpack, now could I?

Harry and I walked into the small fast-food restaurant, which only has a few other customers. I slid into a seat once we had found a table. I looked around, scanning my surroundings. Everything seemed perfectly normal - and it was, to them, at least. These people around me, they had no idea that I was an alien with superpowers from a planet they haven't even heard of, who was now on the run, hiding from other evil aliens. They had no idea that I, someone who looked like your average teenager, had just escaped being imprisoned by Mogadorians.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't notice when a girl came up to me.

"Hey," she said, dragging the word, so that it sounded like there were multiple 'y's in it. She batted her eyelashes, and winked.

Okay, I just switched identities, burnt down my house, fought aliens and came out alive, and now this girl is _flirting_ with me. _Flirting_. I didn't know how to react - I mean, how did you expect me to? I cocked an eyebrow. I wasn't really good with girls. I never was, to be honest.

".. Hi," was my short, brief and simple reply, which I said in a monotone voice, hinting that I didn't want to elaborate.

Of course, she didn't get the hint.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't like her, but it's just that I wasn't, well, in the mood for flirting. This girl was really pretty - with her long, curly dark brown hair and stormy grey eyes. On normal circumstances, I would be much more friendly and social, and probably excited that a girl like her was talking to me. But right now? _Not the right time, dude_.

"I'm Annabelle," she introduces herself. From the corner of my eye, I could see two other girls sitting at a table not far form ours, giggling at me and Annabelle. They were probably her friends.

"I'm.." I paused for just a second, glancing at Harry. He shook his head. I took this as a signal to use neither the name Jack nor Brandon. ".. Nick," I finished.

Nick was a super common name, and so I went with it.

"Well, Nick, what's a cute guy like you doing carrying around a chest?" Annabelle asked playfully.

"There's just my personal stuff in it. I don't like to talk about them," I replied, in a tone almost challenging her to ask more questions.

And then it hit me - did she just call me _cute_? I was sort of taken aback by that. It never really came to me that I was maybe handsome.

Annabelle scowled and bit down on her lower lip. She could tell that I didn't want to chat. She rolled her eyes and went back to her table, muttering something about 'decent guys'. A large grin was plastered on Harry's face.

"Whoa, you're so smooth!" Harry teased.

"Oh, shut up."

The time passes, with me eating pizza, and Harry typing away on his laptop. After a while, he tells me that it's time to go. We leave the restaurant and head towards the car - but that's when I see them.

We both see them - the men in trench coats and shades, standing by our car.

They're here. The Mogs are _here_.

* * *

**OKAY, SO THIS CHAPTER IS WAY OVERDUE.**

**So this is so not 7th October 2013. In fact, this is more than three weeks late! .. Procrastination took the better of me.**

**But yeah! I got it done! Lazy me is lazy! I'm so sorry, seriously. I planned on making this way longer, in fact, I was expanding it, but I decided to end it because it was so late. I needed to get it up to show that I wasn't dead.**

**But uh, yeah. Hope you enjoyed. Cliff-hangers keep you reading. Not sure if I'm a total troll of an author for doing that.**

**Well, see you in the next update!**

**Byeeeee**

**~AD**


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